The Continued Ending
by LetLoveFloat
Summary: A personal rendition of how Peeta and Katniss's lives would be after all the troubles they had endured.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I desperately reach out for the warm body that is always there laying next to me when I wake from my tortured sleep, the one that always comforts me and reassures me I'm safe. And instead find my hand clutching a pillow. My eyes fly open and I frantically call out for him. Slipping out of bed, I put on my robe and search the spacious house in Victors Village where I now spend my days with him. Finding the house vacant, I run out the door and pass by a familiar place. His door is wide open, beating softly against the door frame as the winter wind plays in his yard.

I pad up the steps to shut the door, when I notice Haymitch out cold, lying on the floor. I shuffle in and drowsily hoist him onto the couch. I pry the empty bottle from his hands and cover him in a blanket. He's pretty out of it, so just to make sure I check his pulse. I find his slow pounding beat and feel safe enough to leave him. As a shut the door behind me, I hear him softly begin to snore, and I am reassured that he is fine.

I head down to Peeta's house in Victors Village. I make my way to the door and jerk the knob. The doors locked, and if Peeta were home, it wouldn't be. He's made a point of allowing anyone who wants in, in, as long as he's home to keep the place safe. Just to make sure he's not home, I walk around the house and peer into the frost covered windows. No lights. No sounds. No Peeta.

I go back to my house, and sit on the porch. After ten minutes I walk into town. As I pass by the ruins of my old home, my old district, my old life before the games, a wave of guilt passes over me. "I did this." I tighten the robe around my waist, and then my eyes catch a blond haired boy staring intently at the now burned down bakery. "Peeta!" I walk toward him, but he doesn't move, his focus doesn't change. I stretch out my hand to grab his, but find a fist clenched so tightly, for so long, that his knuckles are ghostly white, the rest of his hand is a flaming red. He looks down noticing my effort, and meets my hand. We interlock fingers and his grip retightens, turning my hand the same shade, but I refuse to let go.

Peeta shifts his head in my direction, but his eyes stay on the ground. "What," his voice tightens, "what do we do now, Katniss." The way he said my name caught me off guard. I put my hand under his chin and adjust his face so he had to meet my stare. In his eyes, I see what I heard in his voice. Hatred, terror, shame, even guilt and somewhere in there, I see a deep longing. I know he knows what I'm thinking, because his look changes immediately, to something completely unreadable. And he must know notice my pain, because he winces and loosens his grip.

I look down to the spot where he was concentrating just a moment ago, and see something catching the sun. I bend down to examine it, but am stopped by Peeta's tight lock on my hand. He sees what I'm attempting and bends down too so I can reach the object without breaking the bond.

I pick up a small, round, silver piece of metal and dust it off. It's far too deformed from the fires to hold any particular shape, but I can tell by the way Peeta looks at it, he recognizes it. "It's my mothers. My father gave it to her for their tenth wedding anniversary."I hand it to him, and know by the strain in his face he is trying to access something that won't be there. Because of the tracker jacker venom, he won't remember much about this place.

I rise, and slowly he follows. I attempt to meet his eyes again, but he won't for a long time. Finally he mouths the same question he did earlier, the one question I know I can't answer. "What do we do now?" After two years of being back from the capitol, you'd think I would know. His hand moves to my face and brushes some hair behind my ear. I look back at the bakery, then at the sky, at our locked hands, and then back at Peeta. And give the only answer I can. "I don't know."


	2. The Aftermath

We stand in the snow for what seems like forever, and finally make the unspoken decision to head home. Neither of us says a word, but exchange slight gestures, and wave to our neighbors. When we get back to my house, I help Peeta out of his muddy shoes, and snowy clothes. We sit by the fire, and hold each other, until I have to force myself to take off my own stiff clothes.

The next hours are a blur. After I got the courage to leave Peeta, I jumped into a nice warm bath. Got out and let Peeta get in. I made dinner, and then went to sit by the fire again. All the disturbing thoughts rush to my mind while staring at the flames. Rues death, all the people I've killed, the Tracker Jacker venom coursing through my veins, Gales terrible hatred for the Capitol, my mother drifting away from us after my father died, Peeta trying to kill me, Finnick's brutal death, the look on President Snows face when I killed Coin, all the times I almost lost Peeta and Gale. And finally, seeing Prim die. All those terrible emotions rush at me all at once; I feel the tears running down my face and do nothing to stop it.

I sense him coming up from behind me, and cradling me in his arms. He knows not to say anything, and just makes soft soothing sounds. I see him come around me and kiss my cheek. But am so paralyzed by the pain that I can't even respond.

I lay my head back on his chest and drift into a troubled sleep. I have the same dream I've been having for the past year. It starts off simply with me and Gale out hunting in the woods. Then he turns to me and takes my hands. That's where the terror starts. I stare into his eyes which are unchanging, but his body transforms into one of the mutts that still haunt me from the first Hunger Games. There are howls, off in the distance quickly getting closer. I back away from Gale into a tree, and he pins me down with his paws. I scream but no sound comes out. That's when I see them.

There are more, at least two dozen more. All mutated mutts, with the eyes of my loved ones. Rue, Prim, my mother, Finnick, Beettee, and several others; then I see him; snarling at me, and I could almost burst into tears. Peetas beautiful blue eyes, attached to a mutts body. **He's** the one that comes closer. Gale backs off of me, and Peeta runs up, poised, and attacks. He hits his target.

I jolt up flailing, screaming his name and I wake up Peeta. We're in bed, and he's lying next to me. He rolls over and wraps his arms around me again, whispering comforting words. As I slowly calm down, he kisses me, and I return the favor. As I fall back asleep, I catch him staring at me in a way he hasn't in a long time. With guilt. And I slowly come to realize that I'm not the only one being hurt by my nightmares.

As I'm about to drift back into my hellish world, I will myself to comfort Peeta back. We just lay their soundlessly, motionlessly, clutching each other, until we see the sunrise.

Peeta gets out of bed and stretches; but I refuse to leave the comfort of my covers until well after noon. There's a knock on the door, and since Peeta went over to his house, I have to get up and get it. It's Haymitch. He's standing in my door way looking extremely pleased with himself. Well actually, he looks as drunk as ever, but he has some dumb smile on his face which tells me he's happy about something.

"I got her to come out!"He nearly giggles, and then leans in anticipating my excitement. "Who?" He laughs like it's completely obvious. "Well your mother of course!" I take a step back and almost bolt away, but I'm stopped by Peeta coming around the corner. I think about how I haven't seen my mother since I left the Capitol, over two years ago. I stumble forward onto the steps, past Haymitch and into a pillow like patch of snow.

My mind is suspended for a few moments as I hear the faint sounds of snow shifting getting increasingly louder; until they over whelm me and I feel my body being lifted up and out of the snow.

My eyes have completely glazed over and I can no longer tell what's happening to my body. But I feel warmers, the sensation of freeze has taken over my entire face and I cannot determine what has caused this discomfort. "My mother?" The words come out involuntarily, and I can't stop them. "The last thing I said to her, was how I never wanted to see her again." And instantly, the room pauses. I feel the weight return to my feet and my body shifts onto a sturdy shoulder.

A sweet emptiness comes down upon me as sink back down to the floor, and the shapes fade to blackness.


End file.
